


You don't cry because it rains, it rains because you're crying

by Sunflowergirl92



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Moving On, Moving Out, Sisters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 05:00:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11223840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunflowergirl92/pseuds/Sunflowergirl92
Summary: She felt shame for living her life and forgetting her mother's sacrifice.She didn't deserve it.Any of it.





	You don't cry because it rains, it rains because you're crying

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this is my first work, I would love some feedback.   
> Title is quote from MIB  
> Kay, thanks, bye. (:

It was the sun that woke Leila. The warmth and brightness contrary to the cold dullness of her dream.   
She kept her eyes closed still. Basking in the heat and enjoying the slight prickle behind her closed eyelids.   
Leila knew, you see. The moment a sliver of awareness touched her sleep addled mind, she knew. Today would be a good day. So why not spend a little more time in her bubble?  
The night before had been exhausting. Leila had stayed up until the wee hours, unpacking her things into her new home.   
Or perhaps her old home?   
She wasn’t sure.   
She opened her eyes and blinked blearily at her flimsy curtains.   
_Need to get thick drapes or I’ll never be able to sleep in._   
As she went about her morning routine she realized she hadn’t finished unpacking the kitchen yet. She’d have to stop for coffee and a quick bite on her way into work.   
It was so easy to forget that she lived on her own now, she found herself calling out to her sister more than once before remembering with a jolt that they don’t live together anymore.

“I can’t live there, Lala,” Mina had said, “Please don’t ask me to.”   
So Leila had not asked again.   
When Mina looked at the old two story bungalow, she saw pain and grief.   
Pain from reliving Sunday night barbecues and Monday morning breakfasts and grief from knowing she’ll never have those with her parents again.   
For Leila, 10 years without them had managed to turn that overwhelming agony into a dull ache.   
She was ashamed to admit even to herself that one morning she precipitously realised she couldn't picture their faces clearly in her mind anymore. She’d torn through the house in a panic, almost twisting her ankle as she took the stairs down three at a time in the quaint cottage she shared with her sister, with only one thing on her mind: The framed family photo in the living room.  
Mina had found Leila on the floor, 20 minutes later, white knuckled and sobbing uncontrollably with that photo frame still clutched tightly between her fingers.   
Mina hadn’t asked, she did what any big sister would do, she slowly tore the picture from Leila’s hands and a minute later, dumped a mug of ice cold water on her head.   
The shock had stopped the tears but hadn’t changed her sudden resolve.   
She needed to feel less disconnected. 

Their family home had been sitting empty for a decade now.   
Love and reverence were built into the foundations of Big Little House and that energy needed to be nurtured and respected and Leila decreed to do just that. 

Unlike Mina, Leila had more of an opportunity to get used to feeling close to their mother. She was there, after all. At the end.   
That was one memory of Leila's childhood she'd never forget.   
She could never forget the acrid scent of burning human flesh mixed with the coppery smell of blood. Oh, the blood. There had been so much blood just gushing out where the meaty part of her palm should have met her wrist.   
The pain was so overwhelming. Not just physically, but mentally, emotionally, too. Leila didn't realise this until much later. Much later when she couldn't sleep through the night and she would bide her time torturing herself by reliving those 2 days, over and over. 

She felt shame for living her life and forgetting her mother's sacrifice. She didn't deserve it. Any of it. The Gods did the world a disservice by not taking her instead.   
Passive Suicidal Ideation, Leila's therapist called it.   
Well. If it walks like a duck and talks like one...


End file.
